


The Beginning of Ghost Turtle

by WillowLong



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Comfort, Consensual, Consensual Kink, Desperation, Desperation Play, Dom/sub Play, I'm Going to Hell, Masturbation, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Mystery Trio, Omorashi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Sibling Incest, Situational Humiliation, Threesome - M/M/M, Watersports, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-19 19:33:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8222378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillowLong/pseuds/WillowLong
Summary: After a drunken night of D rated horror movies and just a tad too much to drink, Fiddleford lets one of his dirty little secrets slip. Stan doesn't remember but Ford defiantly does.  Stan is more than enthusiastic to help his brother.





	1. Fidds Has a Piss Kink

**Author's Note:**

> I'm supposed to be working on my Stan&Mabel stuff but a quick little porn break shouldn't be too much of a distraction.Desperate Fidds is my favorite. Dear roommate, thank you for not being in the Gravity Falls fandom but if you do end up reading this...please forgive me of my sins.

“Fiddleford! Fidds! Wake up!” Stanford slammed open the door to his little room so hard the paintings on the wall shook. 

“I think I’ve figured it out! The missing equation! It was so small. So insignificant. I can’t believe we’ve been missing it all of this time!” Before Fiddleford could process what was happening, Ford was across the room and pushing his older man’s glasses onto his face. 

“Ford, dadgummit-” he glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It blinked at him with angry red numbers. Taunting him. Stan shifted from his place next to him on the large bed. 

“S’ only four in’th mornin’. Did ya even go t’sleep last night?” His voice was thick with sleep. Not caring if he sounded more like theTennessee hick that he was in the dim light that shown in from the hall light. 

“There’s no need. Now, come on! I need your help.” He threw back the smaller man’s sheets, not caring about what he would or wouldn’t find beneath them. 

“Ford, I c’uld gut ya in less’n an hour, ya realize that, right?” He sat up, adjusting the hastily thrown on reading glasses. Stan groaned as he sat up, glaring daggers into his twins eyes. 

“I can help him.” Stan threw an arm around the engineer's chest, pulling them both back down onto the bed. 

“Stanley, good. You’re awake too. I need you as well.” Ford walked to the other side of the bad and rifled through the nightstand drawer the was designated as his. 

“Sixer. Lay down. You need to sleep. Come on.” Stan attempted and failed to pull the other down by his wrist. 

“Stanley.” Ford’s gaze stopped Stan’s oncoming arguing before it even had the chance to reach his lips. 

“You had better get up, Fidds. Psycho here looks like he might pop a blood vessel.” Stan’s eyes didn’t leave his brothers as he spoke. 

“There is a cup of coffee already waiting for you downstairs.” Fiddleford yanked on a pair of worn jeans with a groan. 

“I hate you, Stanford Pines.” He slammed the door as he left.

“Alright, jack-ass. What is this really about?” Stan swung his bare legs over the side of the bed. Ford moved in close to him, throwing a leg over his lap and wasting no time straddling his waist. 

“Uhh, woah there-” He was cut off by the hard press of lips against his own. Stan shifted his hips as his brother pressed down harder into his lap.

“Shut up and listen.” Ford’s expression had changed into one that Stan knew quite well by this point in their lives.

“You remember that night a few weeks ago. Well, maybe you don’t. That night we spent watching the horrendous horror movies you and Fiddleford are so fond of? The night we all had a little bit too much to drink?” Ford pressed his mouth to Stan’s once more, slipping his tongue past his lips and not breaking contact until he felt the need to breath. 

“Mmm. Yeah. What about it?” Stan tried to grind his hips upwards into his brothers jean clad ass only to be denied as Ford lifted himself just out of reach of his brother’s rapidly hardening dick. 

“Remember what Fiddleford had said as he was getting up to use the restroom?” Ford lowered himself back down onto his brother’s lap earning a satisfied groan from the boxer. 

“Actually, uhhh...no. I don’t. I don’t remember much past the opening of ‘Ghost Turtle’. Stan nipped at his brothers bottom lip. Ford pushed him away.

“He said, in a few more words, that he was aroused by the need to urinate.” 

“Woah. Really? Fidds has a piss kink? That’s...pretty hot, actually. Weird, though. I wouldn’t expect that from him.”

“It’s not hard to imagine. I’ve seen him hold it in for hours before rushing off to the restroom with his hand gripping himself when he thought I was engrossed in research. It’s not that rare of a fetish. I’m actually more surprised that it wasn’t you who indulged in that sort of activity.”

“I’m not saying that it doesn’t get me hot thinkin’ about it.” He emphasized by a small thrust of his hips. 

“I bet he looks real nice. Desperate and twichin.” Stan’s eyes darkened along with his brothers. 

“Yes. My thoughts exactly.” Ford let out a shaky breath as his brother ran a firm palm across the bulge in his lap. 

“Couldn’t tell.” 

“Stanley, stop.”

“So why did you wake us up at 4am?”

“Because I need your help. I want to indulge in this. And I want to do it today.” Ford ground down on Stan’s lap a final time before standing. 

“You’re an asshole.” 

“Just get up and come downstairs. And bring another cup of coffee down when you do. I’m sure Fiddleford is close to finishing his first cup.”

The realization of what today was going to bring hit Stan fully with that seemingly innocent utterance. He shuddered as he adjusted himself in his boxers. 

“You got it, bro.”


	2. Woah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's porn. Horrible, piss kink, shameless porn. The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you ever want something written that you can't seem to find because you're a sick fuck, I'm here to write it for you.

The sun wasn’t even attempting to shine when Fiddleford entered the kitchen of their shared cabin. He cursed himself for not throwing on a long sleeved shirt before coming down as a gust of wind blew through a crack in the window they had yet to fix. 

“Should ring that man’s neck.” His eyes fell upon a mug on the counter, beckoning him with steaming promises of warmth. “You saved yer’self this time, Fordsy.” The first sip was enough to revitalize his mind, allowing to clearly think for the first time that morning. His mind flashed to all of the possible places Ford could have discovered the missing component to their research as he began the trek down to the basement. 

 

“Stanley! Bring me that tool-box. No, not that one. Fiddleford, show him what tool-box.” They had been working for nearly five hours now and Fiddleford was starting to get antsy. After the first hour and two cups of coffee later, he was enjoying himself. Losing himself in the sharp metallic smells and tastes of his side of the lab as he prepared yet another piece to their ongoing project. It turned out Ford had not found the missing piece to their puzzle but he HAD come very close. Enough to give them all something to work toward. Stanley never seemed very enthusiastic about helping him and his brother but he had hardly left their side the entire morning. 

Fiddleford shifted his weight on the rolling backboard he was currently spread out upon under a large electric panel. He was starting to feel those cups of coffee. Actually, he hadn’t even had time to use the bathroom after he woke up being as Ford was in such a gosh danged hurry to get down to work. Sweat rolled down his face as he rolled himself out from under the metal shelf. 

“I guess I’m not really very much help down here today, huh?” Stan grinned down at the blonde, a water bottle held out in front of him. “You need to stay hydrated down there. You’re sweating a lot.” 

“He’s right, Fidds. I can’t have to passing out. We’re so close to making a huge discovery! There is no time to rest.” Ford’s voice echoed from the opposite side of the laboratory. “I actually think I need you over here, quickly.” 

Fiddleford ignored the pressure in his abdomen and tossed down half of the water as he jogged over to where Ford was buried in wires with Stan close at his heels. 

“Hell’s bells, Ford! What in heaven’s name have you got goin’ on o’vr here?!” Fiddleford rushed to gather the wires that his partner had managed to tangle around every piece of sensitive equipment within two feet of him. 

“They just got away from me for a moment. Thank you.” Fiddleford reached out to gather up the last of the wiring from around Ford’s arm. 

“I swear, for a genius, you ain’t got the sense God gave a goose, Stanford Pines.” He let out a small squeak of surprise as arms wrapped around from his back, pulling him flush with a warm body. 

“That’s what makes him so cute.” Stan leaned down, his breath ghosting over the smaller man’s ear as he leaned back into the solid frame of his lover. Ford stood from his place at his desk and firmly pressed himself against the engineers front, successfully trapping him between the twins. Ford pressed his hips harder into Fiddleford, his height allowing him to press into the slight distention of his stomach without it seeming purposeful. The action reminded the blonde of his previous intentions to run upstairs and use the restroom but he couldn’t seem to gather the willpower to break away from the brothers. Especially not when Ford grasped his jaw, leaning in and nipping gently at his lower lip as Stan licked along his neck, biting down and sucking what was sure to be a glorious bruise right below his ear.

He moaned into Ford’s mouth and wrapped his arms around his waist, Stan’s hands coming from behind to cover his own. He desperately pressed himself back into Ford’s hips, trying to put more pressure on his abdomen. The feeling went straight to his dick, now straining nearly painfully against the zipper of his dirty jeans. A rather loud moan escaped his lips as Stan ground his half hard cock into the small of his back, pressing him closer to the slighter of the twins. 

“Are you alright, babe?” Stan pulled himself away from the trio, walking to stand next to his brother who had taken a step back from the engineer. Fiddleford let out a whine of displeasure at the sudden lack of contact. 

“Well I was. What’s got you fellas so riled up? Not that I’m complainin’ or anythin’.” He shifted on his feet, bringing a hand down to adjust himself in the pants rolling his hips slightly into his hand. 

“First off, none of that.” Ford grabbed his wrist and pulled it from the waistband of his jeans. “Secondly, you know the rules? You know your colors?”

“Oh-fuck.” He sighed as his stomach clenched in excitement. “Yes, sir.”

Stanley stood on Ford’s left, palming himself through his own ripped jeans. 

“Stanley. What did I just tell Fiddleford?” His hand shot from his crotch and into his pocket. “Now, go stand next to Fidds. You know your colors.” He weak nod indicated he did. “No, Stan. Use your words.” 

“Y-yes sir.” Ford groaned at the sight of his two lovers, sweating in the heat of the ever-running machines, nearly vibrating with anticipation. No one would ever have this but him. His brothers cold, hard exterior being melted into a metaphorical puddy in his hands. The sweet, nerdy, respectful southern gentleman that held open doors and quieted crying babies in the supermarket, on his hands and knees, screaming words that would make a sailor blush.  
“That’s my good boys.” He smiled as he reached a hand down, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants. He grasped himself through his boxers, squeezing slightly and relishing the expressions on the faces of the men in front of him, desperately wishing it were their cocks he were touching. 

Fiddleford began to regret not pulling away before. Without the distraction of the twins, his body was beginning to complain a bit more urgently than it had before, the water making an appearance in his bladder. He moaned as he clenched his abdominal muscles, his cock jumping in it’s restraints. 

“What is the problem, Fidds. You can speak.” Ford couldn’t help but grin when a slight smirk formed at the corner of his brothers mouth. 

“I-I umm, need to use the restroom.” He felt himself blush as another small twinge shot from below his stomach. 

“Oh? Why didn’t you go before? It must not be too bad, hmm? Not to wait this long?” Ford knew he had to have been holding it for quite a while. He’s actually surprised he had managed to go this long without saying something. The chased look of desperation on his partner's face only served to make his cock that much harder as he gave it another squeeze, rubbing himself through the fabric of his underwear. 

Fiddleford knew it was a horrible idea before he said anything. But as long as he was hard, nothing could really happen right now. He wasn’t THAT bad off. Just as long as Ford didn’t want to make this an all day play session. And if he were being honest, he really didn’t want to go. 

Ford took the lack of response as his answer. “Good. Now both of you, strip. Each other, now. We help each other in this house.” He watched as the two wasted no time peeling the clothes from their bodies, eyes locked on each other as they did so, hands moving gently over every inch of newly exposed skin. Stan’s eyes were half lidded as he stared down at the man next to him. He couldn’t help the soft ‘fuck’ that lingered in his breath as Fiddleford pulled his boxers over his cock. He was hard already, sensitive from the pressure building up in his stomach. 

“I want to watch you both. Show me how you touch yourselves. Show me what you look like, alone and desperate wishing someone else was there to suck your dick into their mouth. Imagining it was their throat you were fucking instead of your own hand.” The speed at which the two grabbed themselves might have been record breaking. The harsh sounds of moaning echoed through the lab once again.

“Alright, that’s enough. Stanley, come here.” Ford pulled his brother in for a bruising kiss, purposely keeping his face toward the blonde. “Give him a show, baby,” he whispered as he slowly pushed his brothers head until he was on his knees in front of him, pulling the waistband of his brothers underwear down and allowing him to step out of his pants, pulling his shoes along with them. 

Stans breath caught as a small whimper sounded from behind him. 

“Fidds?” Ford’s voice was soft. Fiddleford’s eyes didn’t leave the carpet. “Fiddleford! Color?”

His eye’s shot upwards, pupils dilated and panting lightly. “Green.” His voice cracked. 

“Good. Stanley, open.” Ford gripped himself, brushing the tip of his cock over Stan’s open mouth. The hot puffs of breath making his cock jump in his hand. “Mmmm. Such a good boy. Now lick.” 

Stan’s tongue darted from his mouth, licking a thick strip along the underside of his brothers dick. “Such a good boy.” He ran his hands through the other twins hair. “Isn’t he, Fiddleford? You’re both such good boys for me.” 

Fiddleford’s knees were beginning to shake under the combined pressure of his bladder and Ford’s searing gaze as Stan shifted on the floor in front of him. 

“Answer me, sweetheart. Or you’re staying in that spot for a while.” Ford gripped Stan’s hair, forcing him down on his cock, the sudden motion causing Stan to swallow quickly at the unexpected intrusion. Ford hummed graciously.

“Oh, God. Yes, sir. We’re good for ya’.” Fidds longed to grasp himself. He could feel little beads of pre-cum forming at the head of his cock threatening to drip onto the floor. 

“Stan, stand up and go stand next to Fidds.” He stroked himself leisurely as he stared at his brothers well built body walking on shaky legs back to his position on the carpet. “Come here, sweety.” He grinned savagely as Fiddleford pitched forward slightly before walking over to Ford, the movement unsettling the contents of his bladder. It seemed to get worse as every minute ticked by and he was secretly delighting in every second of it. 

“Take my shirt off.” He noted the slight quiver in his lovers hands as he reached up to undress him. Ford grasped the small man by the hips, pulling him close and treating him to the same deep kiss he had given his brother moments before. Fiddleford felt his cock pulse as it brushed along the inside of Ford’s thigh. He ferociously thrust his hips against the younger man, moaning as the motion pressed his own muscles harder on his bloated stomach. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” Ford brushed a hand along the bulge on Fiddlefords pelvis. He was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath and another desperate attempt at friction. Stan sighed heavily from behind them. “Stanley, why don’t you go in the top desk drawer and grab what I need. I’m sure you know where this one is.” 

“Yes, sir.” Stan opened the drawer and grabbed the bottle of lube that they kept down there form moments such as these. “Come here with it.” 

Stan quickly walked other to his brother and the man currently struggling against the urge to cross his legs together, knowing the attempt would be pointless with the throbbing erection he was currently sporting. “Hands and knees. Both of you.” 

Fiddleford felt a twinge, stronger than before as he knelt down. He needed to go. Soon. Very soon.  
“S-sir?” He choked out as he positioned himself on his knees, sitting up so that he could press his thighs together around his cock. 

“Yes, Fidds?” Ford was uncapping the lube and spreading a generous amount on both his and Stan’s hands. 

“I really, really need to use the restroom.” He risked getting in trouble as he felt a few small drips leak out from the head of his cock as another rough jolt from his bladder pitched him forward once again. It didn’t seem to matter if he was hard or not. He had really messed up by not going earlier. But fuck, did it feel amazing. 

“It’s too late, Fiddleford. You’re going to have to wait. Now, hands and knees.” Fiddleford whimpered as he knelt down, feeling another small dribble hit his leg as he did so. The feeling of a finger rubbing along his entrance quieted his thoughts momentarily. 

“You may both speak. Colors, please?” Fiddleford thought for a split second of tapping out and running upstairs before he pissed himself but the feeling of a finger slipping inside of him forced a ‘green’ from his subconscious and out of his mouth. He pressed back against the intrusion and hissed as Stan’s large finger threatened to push him over the edge. He didn’t know how he was going to manage keeping it together but the thought was pushed to the back of his mind as Stan added a finger and began scissoring them, the burn of being stretched and the throbbing in his cock heavily out weighting the pounding of his bladder. 

 

Stan groaned as Ford probed his own ass, stretching him before moving to stand. “Both of you, sit up on your knees.” He was beginning to lose his composure watching the two men he loved on their knees, so eager to do anything he asked of them. He positioned himself in front of the two, silently psyching himself up for what he was about to do.

“Do you know what I’m about to do?” He had tried to let his cock soften enough but it was difficult with both men staring so wantonly up at him, full of trust and need. He was lucky he also hadn’t used the restroom all morning. Stan’s eyes widened and he swallowed hard. They hadn’t talked about THIS. But he wasn’t one to say no to new experiences. 

“Yes.” He whispered.

“Fiddleford?” He stared into the smaller man’s eyes. He shook his head slowly. He thought he knew but couldn’t believe it.

“I’m going to piss on you. Is that ok?” Fiddleford felt his throat tighten. How did Ford know about this? There’s no way the man was that much of a genius. He couldn’t read minds and he has never once even slightly expressed his urolagnia. 

“Oh, god. How-yes. Yes, it’s ok.” He could nearly feel his skin prickling with the anticipation. Now he understood. He wasn’t sure how Ford had found out but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

“Ok.” Ford stood in front of them, eyes closed and breathing steadily. He focused on sounds of water as Stan shifted nervously and Fiddleford attempted to spread his legs without pissing himself. Suddenly he felt it. The first hot drips on his arm. Ford sighed as his bladder finally allowed him to piss without strain. He aimed for Stan’s chest, wanting to make Fiddleford watch for as long as he could. This was for him after all. No need to rush. Stan closed his eyes and spread his legs as Ford aimed his stream at his brother’s straining erection. He gasped at the contact and his eyes shot open as he moaned. 

“Oh, fuck! Ford! Jesus. Fidds!” He grasped for the older man’s hand as Ford shifted his attention to the blonde, fighting his arousal as he watch his lovers gasping as squirming as he marked them. He lost his focus and felt his stream nearing it’s end and quickly aimed for Fiddlefords cock, savoring the near yell that slipped through his mouth as he gripped Stans hand and thrust his hips forward, the action causing a spurt of his own piss to mingle with his younger lovers. Ford's hand was stroking himself before the last drops had even subsided, quickly growing hard again. Fiddleford couldn’t last much longer and he didn’t want to cause him any serious damage from holding it in for so long. 

Ford grabbed the bottle of lube and spread it on his cock before reaching over to Fiddleford and repeating the gesture. “Stanley, on your back in front of Fidds.” 

‘Oh thank god.’ Maybe he wouldn’t have such a hard time controlling himself if he wasn’t being fucked after all. 

“Go ahead, baby. You can fuck him now. Look at his face. He wants you. Isn’t that right, Stan?”

“Please, Fidds. Please, fuck me.” Stan laced his fingers through the smaller mans calloused hands.

“I gottcha, darlin’. I’ve always gottcha.” He shifted cautiously on his knees and lined himself up with Stan’s hole. He was so sensitive. It felt almost too good as he slowly pressed into the wet heat of Stan, taking him with the smallest bit of resistance. 

“Oh, Stan, sugar. You feel so good. I love you. Fuck, I love you both so much.” He felt everything intensified by a thousand as every thrust sloshed his bladder closer and closer to the edge. He thought he was going to be ok. He wasn’t going to make it upstairs. That much he knew and accepted. The floor was already a mess. But panic rose in his chest as he felt Ford leaning over his back, the head of his cock pressing against his entrance. He knew with every thrust of Ford’s hips, he was going to be pushed harder against Stan’s waist. His fears were confirmed when Ford pushed in all the way and a small gush of piss rushed out of his cock and into Stan. 

“Ford!” He breathed through his mouth as he continued to pound viciously into the man beneath him. It felt so good. Amazing. He couldn’t focus but he couldn’t stop. He knew he needed to as another thrust pushed another spurt from him, longer than the first this time. His groin was burning. He couldn’t tell if he was about to piss or cum. The feeling was overwhelming as Ford began to pick up his pace. Fiddleford felt it. 

“Ford! Ford I can’t! Ohhh-fuck, Ford! Ahhh-I’m gonna..I can’t!” Piss was steadily leaking from him now as Ford reached a hand around him to pump his brothers swollen cock. Ford leaned closer into his back and spoke into his ear. 

“Yes you can. I have you, sweetheart. Stan has you. It’s ok. Stan?” Stan pressed his hand over Fiddleford’s stomach. 

“Ohhh-Fidds. I love you, baby. I’m here. Let go.” With that he pressed his hand hard down on the distention in his stomach. 

Fiddleford’s thrusts nearly halted as his bladder let go. His vision went blurry and he couldn’t tell the difference between cumming and pissing. 

“Don’t stop fucking him, Fidds.” Without registering anything but the pleasure he felt pulsing through his body he continued fucking into Stan, piss leaking out of his hole and pooling on the ground beneath them. Ford’s hand pumped faster as his thrusts began to falter, his breathing coming out in erratic huffs. 

Tears streamed down Fiddleford’s face as he slammed himself into Stan, his fingers turning the skin beneath them white. “Ohh-Ohh fuck! Ahh-ahh I-I don’t-Ehhgghh!

He let out a yell that would have woken the neighbors if they had had any and buried himself as deep as he could inside of Stanley. His chest heaved with heavy sobs as he rode out the last fleeting twinges of orgasm. Ford moaned as Fiddleford clenched around him, cumming with a few shuddering breaths. Fiddleford collapsed onto Stan’s chest, attempting to kiss him but only succeeding in sobbing into his mouth. Stan rubbed himself on the older man, chasing the edges of his own release. 

“I love you, sugar.” Fiddleford pressed his cheek against the boxers and he was pushed over the edge, his cum mixing with the mess all around them. 

Ford scooted out from behind Fiddeford and settled himself on the opposite side of the couple, pressing the smaller man between the twins. It was a few moments before any of them had regained enough energy to speak.

“Woah.” Stan sighed, wrapping his arms tighter around his brothers, pulling him closer and nearly squeezing the engineer between them. “That was awesome.”

“I’m in accordance with this.” Ford ran his fingers through the sweaty mess of blonde hair between them. 

“Yup. So, if I may? How in a preacher’s cuss did ya’ figure this one out, darlin’?” Ford looked over to Stan, smiling and nodding his head. 

“It was the beginning of ‘Ghost Turtle’. 

“When in blazes did we watch ‘Ghost Turtle’? 

Stan laughed and Ford smiled. “We’re gonna have to get you drunk more often.”


End file.
